


The Perils of Desire

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will debates telling Hannibal just why he's plagued by insomnia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elusive Sleep

Will turned over in bed with a sigh of annoyance, punching the pillow with one fist. Yet another night when he couldn't sleep; he should be used to this by now, as insomnia had been a part of his life for longer than he cared to remember.

But the insomnia that had been attacking him lately had been particularly virulent; before; at least he'd managed to get a couple of hours' sleep a night. Now, he had trouble even getting a few minutes of sleep before he would awaken again, more tense than ever.

He wasn't sure just what was causing his insomnia, but he had an inkling.

Hannibal was never far from his thoughts. Hannibal was always there in the back of his mind, smiling, gesturing, drawing him nearer, like the proverbial moth to a flame. He might not have beckoned outwardly, but Will didn't doubt that he wanted to.

Hannibal was never far from his mind, no matter how much he tried to block the other man out. He always made his way insidiously back in, seemingly with no effort.

Was he becoming hooked on Hannibal? Will could only come to the conclusion that he was; if he wasn't then he wouldn't be constantly thinking about the other man, even dreaming about him. Hannibal had gotten under his skin, and Will didn't know how to dislodge him.

Honestly, he didn't want to.

He wanted more from Hannibal than he had, truth be told. He wanted to be in Hannibal's bed, writhing under him, crying out his name. He'd much rather be there than here alone, in his own bed, drenched with sweat and unable to sleep.

Sleep had always been elusive for him, but since Hannibal had come into his life, his insomnia had only worsened. Thoughts of Hannibal kept him awake, followed him into his dreams, and made his body burn in a way that had never happened before.

Will had never been comfortable with his own body; he'd never really liked touching himself. Yes, it felt good, but that physical well-being was always followed by a terrible sense of shame, even though he knew that there was nothing wrong with masturbating.

Since he'd met Hannibal, he had been masturbating much more than he ever had before -- the touching always accompanied by thoughts of the other man.

He didn't want to touch himself. He wanted Hannibal to touch him.

He craved Hannibal's hands on his body, moving over his skin. He craved Hannibal's mouth on his lips, on his body, on his cock. He craved feeling Hannibal inside him, even though he had never had sex with a man before in his life.

Hell, he'd never had sex with _anyone_ ; he had never wanted another person enough to let down those walls that he kept wrapped around himself. He had wanted to be touched, yes, but never enough to trust the few people he'd been out with.

Aside from a little kissing and fumbling, he'd never been intimate with anyone. Intimacy frightened him; it felt as though he was letting someone into his private sanctum, exposing much more of himself than he had ever been comfortable with. Intimacy didn't work for him.

And yet, he wanted Hannibal to touch him, to kiss him .... to fuck him. He wanted to grant Hannibal the greatest intimacy there was.

No, not the greatest. The greatest intimacy would be letting Hannibal inside his mind.

Hadn't he already done that, in a way? He had bared a lot of his soul to Hannibal in their psychiatric sessions, even though he wasn't technically the other man's patient. Somehow, they had fallen into those sessions, as though they came naturally.

He had even talked to Hannibal about his lack of sleep, and been given several suggestions on how to help himself fall asleep without the insomnia pulling him back into wakefulness. But he had never told Hannibal the truth of the matter.

He'd never told the other man that _he_ was the reason for that wakefulness. If he did, he was sure that Hannibal would back away from him.

What would Hannibal say if he knew that _he_ was the cause of Will's insomnia? What would he say if he knew that Will's erotic dreams of him were what kept him swathed in wakefulness, kept his body burning and yearning for what he was sure he couldn't have?

What if he _could_ have Hannibal? What would he do then?

Would he throw himself at the object of his desire shamelessly? Or would he hold himself back, feeling that it must be a mistake, that Hannibal couldn't possibly want him?

Will didn't know which of those things he would choose to do, but he was leaning towards the former. He was sure that if Hannibal only held out a hand and gave him a bit of encouragement, that he would be in the other man's arms, no matter how dangerous it might be.

Dangerous, yes, for Hannibal as well as for himself. He knew that fraternizing with a patient wasn't something that Hannibal should do; it could cause his ethics to be questioned, and if worst came to worst, he could lose his license to practice psychiatry.

Still, he couldn't help wondering if something _could_ happen between them. There were times when the look in Hannibal's eyes when their gazes met made him positive that Hannibal had these sleepless nights as well, that he wanted Will just as badly as Will wanted him.

But he would more than likely never know.

Neither of them would break out of the safety of what was expected of them and reach out for each other. He knew that he didn't have the courage to do so.

He couldn't go through life without ever telling Hannibal how he felt, Will thought miserably, staring up at the ceiling. Sooner or later, he had to _know_. He had to find out if there was even the slightest chance that Hannibal could feel the same way about him.

Was it love? Of course not, he told himself sternly. He didn't know Hannibal well enough to love him. They were friends, and that was as far as it went -- so far. But beyond the friendship, there was a desire the he couldn't deny, and that he didn't want to hold back.

It was getting harder and harder for him to deny that desire. The longer he did, the stronger it became. At some point, he wouldn't be able to fight it any more.

And once he lost that battle, then Hannibal would know his feelings.

What would he do? What would he say? Would he laugh them off, and tell Will that he had only become the object of those desires because Will needed some kind of outlet? Or would he take them seriously -- and possibly even return them?

There was no way for him to know. Not until he talked to Hannibal about those desires, and got them out in the open. He would have to be honest about how he felt, no matter the danger to his ego, or to his friendship with the man he wanted so desperately.

He knew one thing -- he couldn't keep those desires bottled up any longer. They had to come out, though he knew that it could be a perilous undertaking to set them free.

But he had no choice in the matter. He had to let Hannibal know how he felt -- if he didn't, then the insomnia would not only continue, it would get worse. And the longing for Hannibal would grow stronger, until there was no way for him to contain it any longer.

If that happened, then he could become a danger to himself.

It was past time to tell Hannibal how he felt. He had let these desires build up until they were ready to break their bonds, to rage out of control.

What was making him hold back? There was no reason to. Holding back was only prolonging his own agony, and making his desire grow stronger. He would talk to Hannibal about this tomorrow, when they had their next session. There was nothing stopping him.

With that decision made, Will closed his eyes, sighing and hoping that despite everything, he would still be able to capture at least a little of that elusive sleep tonight.


	2. Never Look Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has always told himself to never look back, but this time, it's hard for him to gather the courage to move forward.

Will stood on the front porch of Hannibal's house, staring at the door. He knew that he should raise his hand and knock, or ring the doorbell; somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do so. It felt as though he would be ending an era of his life if he did.

He hadn't particularly liked that part of his life, but embarking on what felt entirely new -- and scary -- to him was more than a little disconcerting.

But he was here now, and he wasn't going to let himself turn back. He had come to a decision last night, and he was going to follow through on it. He was going to let Hannibal Lecter become his lover, if that was what the other man wanted. It was certainly what _he_ wanted.

Even now, his heart was already pounding, his pulse racing. All he could think of was the fact that Hannibal was on the other side of that door, waiting for him. Tonight, their psychiatric session would -- hopefully -- turn into something much more than a doctor/patient discussion.

He wanted Hannibal to kiss him. And possibly even more than that.

Maybe he was being a crazy fool. Maybe he was wrong about Hannibal's feelings, and the other man didn't desire him at all. But Will didn't think he was wrong. He had seen the expression on Hannibal's face when he'd said certain things, seen the desire written clearly in his eyes.

He might not be good at picking up on subtle signals, but he didn't think Hannibal's signals had been all that subtle. He had read them loud and clear.

Hannibal might not have even realized that he was giving off such signals, but Will didn't think that was the case. Hannibal was far too intelligent, too good at reading people. And he was a psychiatrist. He had to know when he was sending out that kind of a message.

Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, and his intention had always been to draw Will to him, like a spider to a fly. That didn't seem likely, but with Hannibal, there was no way of knowing. The man was so damned enigmatic.

He always felt off balance with Hannibal,as though he was playing some kind of guessing game with the other man. And it was obvious that Hannibal liked those kind of mind games. They never ceased, and they were getting increasingly hard for Will to keep up with.

He didn't want to play games with Hannibal. He wanted to lay all of his cards on the table, to be honest about his feelings and about what he wanted.

But he didn't know if Hannibal was ready to accept that kind of honesty.

He might be making a complete fool of himself, especially if he was wrong and Hannibal didn't have feelings for him -- or didn't desire him. He wasn't sure about the feelings, but that didn't seem to matter so much. It would be enough to know that Hannibal wanted him.

After all, he couldn't honestly say that he had _feelings_ for Hannibal beyond good old-fashioned lust, could he? That was what this was all about -- his desire for Hannibal. A desire that couldn't be held back for another day. He had to know where it would lead.

He had always told himself that he should move forward in his life, never hesitate, never look back. Well, he was taking that advice to heart now.

There was no reason for him to feel so hesitant about knocking on this door. Hannibal expected him to be here tonight, after all. It wasn't like he was intruding. If Hannibal was uncomfortable with the subjects that he would bring up, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

Did Hannibal want him? Yes. He was sure of that. But as to whether Hannibal would want him more than once .... that was up for debate. The other man might just want to have a one-night stand, and Will wasn't ready to give his virginity up for that.

If Hannibal wanted him, then he would have to know that whatever their relationship became, it would mean more to them both than just a brief time of fun and games. He wanted something more solid, more concrete. He wanted something that would last.

He wanted a relationship.

Will had no idea if that was something Hannibal was ready for -- or even if he himself was ready to jump into a serious relationship head first. But he was willing to try; he wanted Hannibal badly enough to do whatever he had to do to make a relationship between them work.

Maybe he was playing a losing hand in a game that he could never win, but he was ready to put everything on the line. His desire wouldn't let him back down now.

That desire was goading him on, telling him to keep moving forward, to never look back at his past. If he did look back, then he would lose his nerve. He would go into this house tonight and talk to Hannibal as a patient talked to his psychiatrist, nothing more.

He would keep holding himself back until there was no possible chance of having what he wanted. Hannibal would move on and find someone else to be interested in -- if he'd ever been interested in him like that at all, Will told himself with an inward sigh.

Well, one thing he couldn't do was keep standing here. He would eventually draw attention from passersby if he just stood here on the porch, obviously needing to either knock or ring the bell. And Hannibal would wonder where he was if he was late.

This was nerve-wracking. But he had no choice other than to keep moving forward. He had never looked back before. Now wasn't the time to start doing so.

If only it wasn't so hard to take that first step into the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, sending up a prayer to whatever deity might exist, even though he didn't particularly believe in any of them. He raised his hand to knock, then thought better of it and pressed one finger against the doorbell.

Once, then again. He waited, knowing that he would hear Hannibal's footsteps from inside the house at any moment. Just teh knowledge that Hannibal would answer the door made his heart leap in his chest, feeling as though it would rise into his throat and choke him.

Within seconds, he heard those footsteps on the hardwood floor of the foyer, and the door opened to reveal Hannibal standing there. Immediately, the other man smiled, taking Will's breath away. Why did no one else's smile affect him in the way that Hannibal's did?

"Will," Hannibal greeted him as he swung the door open and stepped back to allow Will to come inside. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to make it tonight."

How casual he sounded! But Will could hear the underlying anxiety in his voice, as though Hannibal had truly thought he might not be here. Did it mean that Hannibal _wanted_ to see him -- not just as the doctor and patient that they appeared to be, but as something more?

He could only hope that was the case. "No, I was just standing here thinking," Will said before he could hold the words back. "Thinking about you and me -- and about just why I came here tonight." He took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. "I want to talk to you about something>"

Now was the time. If he was going to tell Hannibal how he felt, he had to do it now.

"I don't want us to be just doctor and patient, or just friends," Will blurted out, throwing caution to the winds. He hadn't meant to approach this subject so bluntly -- or so quickly -- but the words had to be said before he drove himself insane. "I want us to be lovers."

Hannibal's brows rose; he closed the door and locked it, then stood looking at Will, the naked desire in his gaze unmistakable.

"Well then," he said quietly, indicating the office. "I believe we should talk about this further, Will. I won't say that I'm averse to the idea. In fact, I'd been hoping that you might feel this way. It saves me a great deal of time and trouble with dancing around the issue."

With those words, he stepped forward and pulled Will into his arms with one quick gesture, staring into Will's eyes before raising a hand to grip his hair and pull his head back.

Then Hannibal's demanding mouth was on his, the kiss forcing his mouth open, bruising his lips, and making him Hannibal's in a way that Will had never expected.


	3. Change Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One night can change everything about a relationship.

Will's mind reeled; he could hardly believe that Hannibal was kissing him. It didn't seem real; it felt as though he had somehow stepped into one of his erotic dreams, a dream that couldn't possibly come true, a dream that would come to an abrupt end.

Surely he would wake up in just a few seconds and discover that he was alone in his bed, his body covered with a thin sheen of sweat, gasping for air, burning for Hannibal's touch.

But this wasn't a dream. This was stark reality; somehow, his dreams had become real. Hannibal was kissing him, holding his head back, one hand still buried in his hair, the other hand lightly grasping his jaw, the touch seeming to burn into his skin.

Hannibal's tongue was probing his mouth, searching, exploring .... plundering. Will could feel his knees go weak; this kiss was sapping his strength, his will. He wanted to sag against Hannibal, to give himself over to this man in every possible way.

He had already done that, hadn't he? He had been Hannibal from the first time they'd met; he'd felt that rush of desire when Hannibal had smiled and they had shaken hands, a desire that even then had been so strong it had almost made him gasp aloud.

He belonged to Hannibal. There was no denying that fact.

He might try to struggle against it, try to deny it, try to say that this was only infatuation and that he would get over it soon enough. But deep down, he knew that wasn't true. He was hooked on Hannibal; this man was an addiction for him.

An addiction that he didn't want to give up. He didn't care if he would end up being hurt in the long run; he needed to satisfy his desires in any way he could.

He simply hadn't expected to have those desires gratified so quickly. He hadn't really thought that Hannibal wanted him; he had imagined that he would let his emotions spill out, and that Hannibal wold find some polite way to let him down easy.

Yet here he was, in Hannibal's arms, their tongues tangling, the intimacy of the kiss taking his breath away. It didn't seem real, but it was. From what he could discern, it felt as though Hannibal wanted him just as much, that his desire ran just as high.

After what felt like an eternity, they both broke away from the kiss; Will was wide-eyed and panting for breath, Hannibal's lips curing in a satisfied smile.

Will thought he looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

"What do you want from me, Will?" Hannibal asked, his voice soft, his gaze riveted on Will. "Where do you want this relationship to go? I will let you know from the beginning -- I'm not interested in a simple one-night stand with you. If we are to be involved, it should last."

Will didn't know what to say; he hadn't thought past his momentary desires. He knew that he wanted more than a one-night stand with Hannibal; he didn't think that he could bear to let this man go after just one night. That wouldn't be nearly enough.

"I want you," he blurted out, shaking his head. "Just you. Whatever you want to give me. As much as you can give me. I just want to be with you. I want you to kiss me and touch me and f-fuck me." The last words came out shakily; it was hard to say them.

"Ah, but it won't just be fucking, Will," Hannibal told him, a slight frown creasing his brow. "I would assume that you would rather make love than simply fuck."

Will nodded, wondering why he had used that particular word. Of course he didn't just want Hannibal to fuck him. That seemed abrupt, cold and clinical. That word carried nothing of the desire he felt for Hannibal; it was crude and base, unworthy of all that he felt.

"I would," Will whispered, unable to look away from that burning gaze.

"You're a virgin, aren't you, Will?" Hannibal continued, his hand moving from Will's jawline down to the tender hollow at the base of his throat. Those long fingers stroked over his skin, making Will shiver in reaction, wishing that hand would keep moving downward.

To his surprise, it did. Within seconds, Hannibal's fingers were circling the hard nubs of his nipples under the fabric of his shirt; Will wished more than anything that his shirt would magically disappear, that Hannibal was touching his bare skin.

He couldn't keep himself from squirming slightly under that touch; he wondered if Hannibal could sense his urgency, his need to be touched. To him, it seemed all too apparent, but then, Hannibal didn't know what his feelings were.

Did Hannibal desire him just as much? And how would he find out if the other man did indeed want him unless he asked? But he couldn't bring himself to do so.

They simply stood there, their gazes locked, as Hannibal's hand moved lower down Will's body, brushing over his belly, finally coming to rest on his hip. Will's breath caught in his throat, his blue eyes widening; Hannibal's hand was so close to where he wanted it to be.

"You didn't answer my question," Hannibal reminded him, arching one eyebrow. "Are you a virgin, Will? This is something that I need to know."

Slowly, Will nodded, swallowing hard.

"Y-yes," he managed to croak, acutely aware of where Hannibal's hand was resting. That hand was lying lightly on his hip, only inches away from his crotch. All he had to do was wriggle slightly, and Hannibal's hand might shift, coming to rest right between his legs ....

And then that hand _did ___move, settling on his crotch, Hannibal's fingers lightly cupping his cock through the fabric of his jeans. Will couldn't hold back a gasp; he blinked rapidly, breathing in through his mouth, his throat suddenly constricted.

How had Hannibal known that he wanted to be touched there? Was there some kind of silent connection between them, some communication that Hannibal picked up on without needing words? Could he really read Will's desires so easily?

Of course he could, Will told himself. Hannibal was a psychiatrist; he was trained to see into people. And he'd been delving into Will's psyche for a while now.

"It's good that you are," Hannibal said softly, bringing Will's mind back to the present moment. "Not that I wouldn't still want you if you were not a virgin, but it's something of an honour to know that you've chosen me to be your first lover."

Chosen? He hadn't actually _chosen_ Hannibal. His attraction to the other man had been a need, a compulsion, something outside of his conscious, rational thought. This was something he _needed_ , desperately, something he had to have.

Again, he could only nod; no words could be forced from his throat.

This was going to change everything between them. If Hannibal was going to become his lover, then their doctor/patient relationship had moved into dangerous waters.

Will didn't want to think about that. He only wanted to concentrate on how Hannibal's hand felt as those fingers tightened slightly; he moaned softly as he felt his body harden in response. Surely Hannibal could feel it, too; his erection was unmistakable.

"I can tell that you want me," Hannibal whispered, leaning closer to Will, those warm lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "I want you too, Will. Very badly."

"So why don't we go upstairs?" Will asked, feeling greatly daring. Maybe this wasn't the right way to go about letting himself be seduced, but he didn't want to stand here in the foyer when they could be in a much more comfortable position.

Hannibal's brows rose; he moved his hand slightly lower, giving Will's balls a gentle squeeze before letting go; his hand in Will's hair loosened at the same time. "My, my. Eager, aren't you?" He shook his head, his lips curving in to a smile. "I suppose that's a good thing."

Of course it was a good thing. How could he _not_ want Hannibal?

How could anyone not want this man? Will had a hard time understanding why Hannibal wasn't already involved with someone -- after all, he was an attractive man. He could probably have anyone he wanted -- yet somehow, Hannibal had chosen _him_.

Will was determined to make sure that Hannibal never regretted that choice; he wanted to give Hannibal everything that he desired, to make sure that he satisfied Hannibal in every possible way. He would do all that he could to be the perfect lover.

He might not be experienced, but Hannibal would teach him. He had no doubt of that. This man would show him all that he needed to know; Hannibal would be his guide into an intimacy that he had never thought he would experience, an intimacy that he didn't want to have with anyone else.

He was standing on the cusp of a whole new world, a world that was opening up to him far more rapidly than he'd hoped it would. 

"Come along, Will," Hannibal told him, his hand moving from Will's hair to take his hand, leading him to the stairs that led upwards to Hannibal's bedroom. Will's heart raced; this was where he had always wanted to be, where he'd dreamed of being so many times.

This night was going to change everything for him. His entire life would be transformed; tomorrow morning, he would look at the world in an entirely different light. Taking a deep breath, Will followed Hannibal up the stairs, letting the other man lead him to his fate.


	4. Burning Down One Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He burns for Hannibal's touch, up one side and down the other.

Will didn't say a word as Hannibal led him into the bedroom; his throat was too tight and constricted to get even the tiniest sound out. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to speak again even if Hannibal asked him a question; the words just wouldn't break free.

Why was he so nervous? This was what he had wanted for so long; for Hannibal to touch him, to want him, to make love to him.

It was finally going to happen, and he was so terrified that he was literally shaking in his shoes. There was no reason to be so scared; Hannibal had already told him that he was wanted, and he was sure that the other man would make his first time pleasant.

Yet there was something almost sinister in the air around him.

Hannibal turned to him, dropping his hand and looking into his eyes. Will was caught by that gaze, as though he was a deer mesmerized by headlights; he couldn't have looked away if he had tried, so enticing was the expression on Hannibal's face.

"I want to undress you, Will," Hannibal breathed into his ear, his voice very soft and almost soothing. His hands moved down Will's arms to clasp his wrists, then back up to his shoulders; Will wanted those hands all over him, exploring his entire body.

"I want that, too," Will whispered, barely able to speak the words. The idea of Hannibal's hands on him, removing his clothes, was almost more than he could comprehend.

He simply stood there, arms at his sides, waiting for Hannibal to do whatever he wanted. It didn't occur to him that he was free to touch the other man, to kiss him, to wind his arms around Hannibal's neck, to do as he wanted, just as Hannibal was.

"You don't have to keep your hands to yourself, Will." 

Hannibal's tone was amused; he sounded as though he wanted to laugh. Will could feel a burning blush steal over his cheeks; he was sure that they were a flaming red at this point. How could he be so stupid? It would be so much easier if he knew what he was doing.

"You really don't have any experience, do you, my lovely one?" Hannibal breathed int his ear. "I don't mind that. It's an honour to be the first to touch you."

Lovely? Had Hannibal really called him that? Will swallowed hard, lifting his hands to push back the hair that had fallen over Hannibal's eyes, gazing into those dark depths. More than anything, he wished he could read those eyes, know what Hannibal was thinking.

Hannibal must have read the question in his eyes; he nodded, a smile curving his lips. "Yes, Will, you _are_ lovely," he said softy, raising a hand to trace the perfect bow shape of Will's lips. "You are the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."

Then Hannibal's lips were on his, cutting off any words.

Will wound his arms around Hannibal's neck, pulling the other man closer to him, wanting nothing more than to feel Hannibal's body against his own, those hands moving down his back, touching him anywhere and everywhere. His body was burning, his skin tingling.

Hannibal's hands did just that, moving down his back, over the curve of his ass -- stopping there, to cup his ass as though he was memorizing the feel of it in his palms.

He was burning, melting in the heat of Hannibal's embrace, like candle wax pooling into a puddle at this man's feet. Those hands moved lower, down to his thighs, then back up his sides until they were resting on his shoulders again.

And all the while, Hannibal was kissing him, those lips still on his, that insidious tongue slipping inside his mouth to fully taste him, exploring the warm cavern.

His body was burning down one side and back up the other.

Will wished that this first part was over, that his clothes had already been removed and that he was lying on the bed, looking up at Hannibal, watching him undress. He wished that they had already moved ahead and he only had to wait to be taken.

"Touch me, Will." Hannibal's voice was louder now; it had taken on the tone of command, rather than request. Will was glad to be told what to do; he felt very young and inexperienced next to Hannibal, unsure of just what was expected of him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Hannibal's waist, then moved his hands up the other man's back to grasp his shoulders, pulling him even closer.

He could swear that he heard a soft moan from Hannibal's lips, just before the other man captured his mouth in a kiss that Will was sure would burn him to ashes. His body was a conflagration, burning from the inside out, reducing him to a pool of molten lava.

Dimly, he felt Hannibal pulling at his shirt, unfastening the buttons.

Normally, that might have scared him, but in the heat of passion, he barely noticed. It only took him a few moments to work the buttons on Hannibal's shirt free and toss it aside, moving his hands over that broad chest, so different from his own smooth body.

The sparse smattering of hair on Hannibal's chest felt good under his fingers; it was so different from the feeling of touching his own body and finding only smooth skin.

Hannibal's hands were at the waist of his jeans, quickly unbuttoning and then unzipping them; Will knew that he would be naked in just a few moments, his body exposed to the sight of this man. And after that .... well, then Hannibal would be able to do whatever he wanted.

All he wanted was for Hannibal to touch him, take him, make him his. His body was slowly melting in the heat of their caresses; just the mere brush of Hannibal's fingers across his nipples, first one, then the other, was enough to make him moan with need.

He wanted to be on his back on that bed, with Hannibal leaning over him. He wanted Hannibal inside him, thrusting into him, joining their bodies in wild abandon.

The only thought in his mind was to make that happen.

Will hardly realized that his jeans and boxers were being pushed down his long legs to pool around his ankles; slowly, he stopped out of them, leaving his naked in the circle of Hannibal's arms, the other man still wearing his dark trousers.

"You are even lovelier without your clothes than you are with them on," Hannibal whispered into his ear, that warm breath feeling almost as though it was scalding his skin. He was burning down that side of his body, the flames reaching all the way from his head to his feet.

He needed to be touched, to be kissed. He wanted Hannibal's hands and lips over every inch of his body, touching all of his exposed skin; he wanted to experience all that Hannibal could give him, to take it all in and then beg for more.

"Patience, Will," Hannibal whispered. "You'll have all that I can give you .... and more. I promise you that, lovely. You won't be disappointed."

"I never doubted that," Will answered, his voice deeper and throatier than it usually was. Desire made his tongue lazy; he didn't want to talk, only to explore each other's bodies, to learn every inch of Hannibal's skin just as he wanted Hannibal to know his own.

Hannibal bent his head to kiss Will again, moving them towards the bed as he did so.

This was it, then, Will told himself, his muscles tightening in anticipation. In moments, he would be lying on that bed, and Hannibal would be removing the rest of his clothes, then joining him. there was no turning back now; no way that he could change his mind.

Surprisingly, he was comfortable with that idea. He was right where he wanted to be; he didn't have any second thoughts, and he was sure that he would have no regrets once this night was over. He had, after all, wanted this ever since he'd first met Hannibal.

He didn't want to change his mind. He didn't want to turn back the clock, or do anything differently. Even if did change the past, all roads would still lead him here.

There was nowhere else he wanted to be, no other person he wanted to be with. He had given himself up to this moment, and he wouldn't turn away from it, no matter what might happen.

Even if he was making a mistake, it was his to make.

Will fell back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, watching as Hannibal backed away a few steps and slowly unbuttoned his trousers, pushing them down his legs and then stepping out of them to approach the bed and lean over him.

Then Hannibal's lips were on his again, and those hands were on his body, first settling on his hips, then moving up, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Will's body arched upwards into that touch, his moan swallowed by Hannibal's kiss. He didn't know where this night would take them, but he was already burning for more, his body coalescing into a flame that could only be quenched by the man he was giving himself to.


	5. Unconditional Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving himself to Hannibal isn't proving to be as difficult as Will thought it would be.

Will writhed under Hannibal's cool hands as they moved over his bare body; all he could think of was how much he wanted this man to touch him. He wanted those hands all over him -- and he wanted Hannibal inside him.

That thought shocked him; he had never wanted anyone to be that close to him before. With anyone else, he would have run a mile before he'd let them get even this far with him. But with Hannibal, he only wanted to be as close as he possibly could.

Was it wrong to want someone this badly? He didn't think so, not when other emotions went along with the desire. He had never surrendered himself to anyone before; the feeling was new, different, exhilarating. He was giddy with desire, drowning in it.

Hannibal stopped touching him and sat back on his heels, looking down at Will with a small smile on his face, studying him.

Will propped himself up on his elbows, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Why had Hannibal stopped? Was he doing something wrong? He hadn't really been doing much, other than simply following the dictates of his body. He'd been listening to his desires, not to his mind, for the first time in his life. It felt incredibly free, as though he'd broken loose from shackles.

Maybe he had. He'd always felt restrained by the rules and conventions of society; tonight, being here with Hannibal, he didn't have to bow to those conventions any more. He could let them all go, and give in to his desires. He could be who he had always wanted to be.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse and cracked. He cleared his throat, but could think of nothing else to say.

"Just admiring how lovely you are," Hannibal said, his voice thick with desire. "And contemplating just what I want to do to you," he added, his gaze traveling down Will's body. Will felt a momentary desire to cover himself, but it passed quickly.

Instead, he lay back against the soft silken sheets, proudly displaying his body to the man who would be his lover. Why shouldn't he be proud of how he looked? He wasn't a bad-looking man, and he knew that his body was in good shape.

He had nothing to be ashamed of.

"So beautiful," Hannibal murmured, leaning down to fuse his mouth with Will's again. One hand moved down Will's body, his fingers curling around the younger man's hardened cock, moving from the base to the shaft once before letting go and trailing over Will's hip.

"So .... what do you want to do to me?" Will asked, feeling a surge of excitement rush through his body. He couldn't believe that he was being this brash and bold with Hannibal; he'd never felt this kind of freedom before, to say and do anything he wanted.

"Oh, many things, my sweet." Hannibal leaned over him, looking down into his face; their gazes met and fused, the desire evident in each of them. "But first, I must know something, Will. You're a virgin, yes?" The question was put bluntly, waiting for a simple yes or no.

Will nodded, gulping. "Yes, I am -- I hope that's not going to be a problem." What if it was? he asked himself. What if Hannibal didn't want him now?

But Hannibal was still smiling, nodding as his hand trailed back up Will's body to tweak and tease his nipples. "I thought as much. I'm quite flattered to be the first man you've been with." He glanced up at Will's face gain, brows raised. "Or wold that be the first person of either gender?"

Will blushed as he nodded in acknowledgement of those words.

He'd never really been embarrassed to be a virgin. Sex had just seemed like something that was far too intimate, something that he didn't think he'd be any good at. So he had always avoided letting anyone get close; that seemed to solve the problem.

Until now. Until Hannibal.

He'd never wanted anyone else to touch him. Hannibal was the only person who had brought out his sexual feelings, the only person he thought could ever do that. No one else excited him, made him desire them, made him _want_ to be intimate.

He watched as Hannibal reached for the table by the bed, sliding open the drawer and rummaging around for something. Will's body tightened in anticipation; he had to be looking for the lube. There was no other reason he'd reach into the drawer, was there?

His guess proved to be accurate; Hannibal pulled a small tube from the drawer, uncapping it and spreading a generous amount on two fingers before looking down at Will again. "Spread your legs for me, lovely," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips across Will's again.

Will closed his eyes, complying with Hannibal's words. Were they a request, or a command? He didn't much care which; he would do what he was told.

A soft gasp escaped his lips when he felt Hannibal's lubed fingers slide between his thighs; he hadn't expected that intimate touch to feel so immediate, so powerful. His body automatically rose to meet that touch, his hips arching upwards.

He wanted more. He _needed_ more.

"Patience, Will." Hannibal's soft voice seemed to come from very far away; Will felt as though he was in a world of his own, where only the two of them existed. Everything else had disappeared; there was only this man, and the desire that flowed between them.

"I want you," he managed to gasp, knowing that Hannibal would understand the immediacy of how he felt, the urgency of his need.

"I know you do, my sweet," Hannibal replied in a soothing voice. "I want you, as well. But I will not rush this. Your first time should he something that you savour, and that you will always remember. I want to make sure that we both enjoy it."

He hadn't thought that his first surrender would be like this; he'd thought that it would be over and done with quickly, and that he would barely remember it. But Hannibal seemed to have other ideas, and he wasn't going to say no to whatever the other man wanted to do to him.

This was all new and exciting -- and even a little frightening. He had never allowed himself to even think of surrendering to anyone else; Hannibal was the only person he had ever wanted with this kind of intensity, this all-consuming desire.

That desire was rising, racing uncontrollably through him, turning his body into molten lava.

Will felt hot and cold at the same time; hot where Hannibal's fingers touched him, where that dark gaze raked over his body, cold wherever Hannibal wasn't touching him with his hands and his gaze. He was both burning and shivering, both hesitant and eager for more.

Closing his eyes, he gave himself over to the desire that was raging through him, pushing the hesitation away. There was no reason to hold back; Hannibal wanted him, wanted to make this good for him. There was no need to feel hesitant or afraid.

Will gasped as one long finger slid inside him, his hips rising, his muscles tightening. He hadn't expected being penetrated to feel like this; it wasn't painful or even uncomfortable, just very .... _full_. It was a sensation he'd never experienced, but it wasn't unpleasant.

This felt better than anything he could have imagined; even when a second finger entered him and they both pushed more deeply inside his body, there was still no pain, only a sense of fullness, of being opened and exposed to the man he wanted so desperately.

"Beautiful," Hannibal whispered. "You are beautiful in your desire, Will."

Beautiful. Hannibal thought he was beautiful. The words gave Will a sense of pride, a feeling of confidence unlike any he'd ever had before. Any lingering hesitation was washed away by those words; he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he was doing the right thing.

This was where he belonged, here in Hannibal's arms, in his bed. He had made the right decision; this unconditional surrender was his destiny.

"Take me," he begged, his voice throaty and guttural. He had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to be one with Hannibal; he didn't care if there was some pain, as long as Hannibal made him his in every way. He was tired of waiting; he was more than ready for this.

"All in good time, my lovely," Hannibal murmured, his fingers sliding further inside Will, brushing against his prostate. The burst of sensation rendered Will speechless; he could only lie there and let himself _feel_ , waiting breathlessly for whatever would come next.


	6. Claiming the Prize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal intends to enjoy the prize he's claimed as his own for a very long time to come.

This was exactly where he wanted Will to be.

Hannibal smiled down at the young man, knowing well how Will was feeling. He wanted this, _needed_ it, but at the same time, he was hesitant, not knowing what to do next. Well, he didn't need to do anything. His lover would lead the way.

He wanted Will writhing and crying beneath him before much longer, surrendering himself completely to his desires, begging for more. Hannibal had no doubt that was the reaction he would get; Will was going to belong to him completely by the time this night was over.

Will already belonged to him, he thought with an inward smile. But after tonight, his young lover would have no doubts in his mind about that.

Slowly, carefully, he let his fingers slide out of Will; the boy was ready for more than that. He could tell by the way Will was gazing at him, by the hunger in his expression. He had never seen Will look so beautiful -- or so utterly desirable.

He was beautiful, this young man he had taken to his bed.

So beautiful, so sensual, and so _willing_. He would never have thought to see Will Graham like this when they had first met; then, Will had barely been able to look at him, never making eye contact. He still had a hard time doing that at times.

But now, Will was looking at him, _directly_ at him, with all the desire in the world shining in those bright blue eyes. He had no doubt that Will wanted him, that his desire was at a point where it could no longer be held back in any way.

He knew exactly how he wanted to take Will this first time; he wanted to be able to gaze into those incredible sapphire eyes, to see Will's reactions to every movement. He wanted to see every expression on that beautiful face, to drink in Will's pleasure.

And, of course, he wanted to take his own pleasure in the knowledge that he finally had what he'd wanted ever since his first meeting with Will.

He could hear Will's ragged breaths, growing more pronounced with each moment.

"Shhh, my sweet, patience," he said softly, reaching out to brush the damp curls back from Will's face. "It will only be a few moments more, and then you'll have what you desire." _And what I desire, as well_ , he thought to himself.

There were no barriers between them now, no reason for him to hold himself back. He could take what he wanted, and he knew that Will wouldn't object. But he also had to tread carefully, to set the stage for what would happen between them in the future.

He couldn't simply take his pleasure without any thought as to how Will felt. He had to make this first time extraordinary, to keep Will coming back for more.

Hannibal had no doubt of his ability to do that; he was confident that tonight would snare Will, bring the boy to his side for good. Will would keep coming back after tonight; there would be no way that he could resist, no way that he could keep himself from falling.

Perhaps he had already fallen, and this was merely the proof.

His eagerness, his insistence on losing his virginity now, tonight, was proof that he trusted Hannibal, and nothing more than that was needed. Hannibal was more than ready for this night, and it pleased him that Will was finally at this point.

He didn't take his eyes from the young man's face as he lubed himself; Will was watching him, those blue eyes widening as they focused on Hannibal's cock. He was sure that he knew what Will was thinking -- that he was too large, too intimidating.

"Don't worry, my sweet," he said softly, feeling that he had to attempt to quell any fears that Will might have. "The pain will only last for a mere second."

Will nodded slowly, swallowing hard. It was obvious that he was having second thoughts, but Hannibal had no intention of letting those thoughts take him over. They had come too far tonight to turn back now; there was no path leading back to where they had begun.

The only way from here was forward.

Will had made his choice, and Hannibal didn't intend to let him turn away from it. There would be certain consequences if he tried to do so, consequences that Hannibal didn't want to think about. No, Will mustn't be allowed to give in to any fears he might have.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Will's parted lips. At once, he could feel the young man's body relax; perhaps all Will had needed was that bit of reassurance.

Slowly, gently, he pushed Will's knees up towards his chest, spreading his thighs slightly. Only a few moments more, and he would be exactly where he wanted to be, breaching all of Will's defense, battering through any walls he might attempt to put up.

Hannibal pressed himself against Will's entrance, keeping his gaze fixed on the young man's face. "Touch me, Will," he said, his voice not loud, but firm and demanding. Hesitantly, Will complied, reaching up to wind his arms around Hannibal's neck.

As Will's grasp on him tightened, Hannibal thrust his hips forward.

Will cried out as Hannibal entered him, and Hannibal's own gasp of surprise was added to the sound. He couldn't believe how _hot_ Will was; it was as though he was immersed in a searing heat that burned from the inside out, a heat that he hadn't expected.

But it didn't take long for his head to clear from that first unexpected sensation; within moments, he had worked up a steady rhythm thrusting deeply inside Will, then slowly pulling almost the way out, only to thrust in again harder and deeper.

Will's body rose to meet his, those slim hips answering his own, their bodies moving together in a natural, primitive rhythm as old as time itself.

Hannibal wanted to close his eyes, to revel in the sensations, but he couldn't take his eyes from Will's face. It was as though the young man beneath him was transformed by their coupling from a beautiful man into the most exquisite creature that Hannibal had ever beheld.

He knew in that moment that he could never let Will go.

There would be no letting Will Graham out of the web he had spun for the young man to become entangled in. He had thought that he could simply use Will until he tired of him, but now he knew that somehow, this beautiful boy had become a part of him.

Will belonged to him in every possible way; nothing would ever induce him to give this up, to let this young man out of his life. Will was _his_ , and always would be.

Anyone else who tried to stake a claim on him, anyone else who even showed a glimmer of interest, would be speedily dispatched. Will was claimed, taken; no one else had the right to so much as consider that he could be theirs.

There had never been such a coupling, not in his experience; no one he had ever been with before had been as perfect for him as Will was. This was their destiny, their design; they were meant to be, from the moment of their first meeting until time immemorial.

Will was his, and he was Will's. The way that it should be.

One more thrust, then another -- and he was pouring himself into Will, flying through the stars at the speed of light, barely able to catch his breath. Dimly, he heard Will cry out, felt the slender body under his own jerk, and knew that Will had also found his release.

Hannibal wanted to collapse on top of the young man, but he didn't; instead, he braced one hand on the pillow, then reached out the other to stroke Will's cheek, gazing into those blue eyes, taking in the dazed expression on Will's features.

"You are mine, Will," he whispered. " _Mine._ Not just for tonight, but for all time. You belong to me, in every way possible. We will explore the heights of what we have just begun to discover tonight. Together. For tonight, and for all time."

He couldn't keep back a smile of satisfaction as Will nodded, confirming his words without speaking a single syllable himself.

This was what he had always wanted, and more, what he had always _needed_. He had scaled the heights, and he had no intention of ever coming down now that he had found them. He had ventured to the highest peak, planted his flag, and claimed his prize.

A prize that he intended to enjoy for a very long time to come.


	7. This Doesn't Have To Be Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will doesn't know what to call the burgeoning relationship between himself and Hannibal.

Will blinked, turning over onto his back to squint at the sunlight coming through the window. He had a hard time believing that he was here, in Hannibal's bed, that he had actually spent the night being made love to by the man he so ardently desired.

Hannibal wasn't in bed; Will could only assume that he had already started his day. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, wishing that he had clean clothes to change into.

Ah well, he didn't, so he'd have to make do. He slid out of bed, stretching his arms above his head. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he moved closer to it, studying his body in the bright light of morning to see if he looked any different.

To his surprise, he didn't.

He'd thought that he might look different the morning after the first time he'd had sex, but he looked exactly the same. His body didn't appear to have been changed in any way -- well, except for the slight soreness between his legs that he knew would fade.

For the moment, he treasured that feeling of soreness -- it had been given to him by the man the loved, by the joining of their bodies. He couldn't regret that. And really, there had only been a few moments of pain that had quickly been superseded by exquisite pleasure.

All in all, his first time had been eminently satisfying. So much so that he could hardly wait to do it again -- though he doubted Hannibal would be ready for that quite yet.

Somehow, he didn't think the other man would be as eager to make love again as he was. After all, this wasn't a new experience for Hannibal -- he'd had sex before. A sudden stab of jealousy shot through Will, a scowl settling onto his features.

How many other people had felt like this after a night with Hannibal?

He struggled to push that jealousy away from him; there was no reason to feel like this. Anyone who had been with Hannibal in the past was firmly left behind in that past; he was absolutely sure that his lover didn't have anyone else in his life.

If Hannibal _was_ involved with anyone in any way, he kept it well hidden -- though Will didn't believe that for a moment. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who would hide something like that; no, he would have any relationship out in the open for the world to see.

Hannibal wasn't the sort of person who would be involved with anyone he wanted to hide. He wouldn't be ashamed of his relationships, but proud of them.

Which was why their relationship might be problematic, Will thought with a soft sigh. He was, after all, a patient. Though not technically, not really. They would find a way around the fact that Hannibal had been unofficially treating him.

Hannibal wasn't his psychiatrist. Hannibal was his lover.

 _His lover._ Those words made Will's heart soar; he hadn't expected to be saying them. He hadn't thought that Hannibal could possibly feel the same way about him; he'd thought that he would have to love from afar, that his feelings would always be unrequited.

But after what Hannibal had told him when they had been making love, he knew that not only were those feelings returned, but they burned just as strongly for Hannibal.

 _You are mine, Will._ He could still hear those words in his mind, as clearly as if Hannibal had been standing right here behind him, whispering them into his ear. Yes, he was Hannibal's. He always would be. Those words were nothing more than the unvarnished truth.

 _You belong to me. Not just for tonight, but for all time._ He wasn't going to argue with those words; they had been exactly what he wanted to hear. Hannibal owned him; Hannibal had _claimed_ him, and he had no desire to refute that claim.

He wanted to be claimed. He wanted to be owned. To be _loved_.

Hannibal hadn't said a word about love. Will frowned at the thought, his brows drawing together. Why hadn't he said those three little words that meant so much? Was it too soon for him? Or was it because he didn't feel love, only desire?

No, that couldn't be the case. Hannibal wouldn't have been so gentle with him if there wasn't love involved. He had to believe that Hannibal cared for him.

Sighing, Will reached for his jeans and shirt, getting into his clothes as quickly as he could. This was a subject that he and Hannibal needed to discuss this morning. It wasn't one he looked forward to, but it had to be tackled.

What if Hannibal _wasn't_ in love? What if last night had only been a pleasant interlude for him, one that he wanted to keep happening, but one that would be devoid of any feelings other than desire and a kind of friendship? That wasn't what Will wanted.

He wanted love. He wanted .... _commitment_.

He loved Hannibal. He might as well admit that right now. He'd desired Hannibal since the first time they had met; there was an electric charge between the two of them, a spark that could turn into a raging flame at any given moment.

Hannibal felt it, too. He was sure of that. Last night wouldn't have happened if there wasn't desire on both sides. But love? That was another matter.

Will made his way slowly down the stairs, taking a deep breath once he reached the bottom. He could smell the aroma of coffee permeating the house; Hannibal was obviously in the kitchen, probably waiting for him. Well, it was time to talk.

When he entered the kitchen, Hannibal's back was to him; the older man was cooking eggs and sausages, concentrating on what he was doing. Will simply leaned against the door frame, watching Hannibal, admiring the grace of his movements.

What had he done to deserve this man?

He didn't have the answer to that question. He only knew that last night had been magical for him, and that he wanted it to happen over and over again, preferably for the rest of his life. He couldn't imagine not having Hannibal in his life as a lover. Not now.

After last night, his perceptions about everything in his life were turned upside down. He'd had what he thought could never be his -- but it remained to be seen whether he could hold on to it or not. Or whether Hannibal wanted him to do so.

if he didn't, then Will knew his heart would be shattered into tiny shards that could never be put together again. He _needed_ Hannibal to want him.

It didn't have to be love. It was enough for this to just .... _be_. For them to be together, for whatever they had between them to grow, for them to learn more about each other with each passing day. They didn't have to put a name on it.

This was theirs and theirs alone, by whatever name they chose.

No, this didn't have to be love. Maybe it shouldn't be love, not this soon. They were together, and that was enough. He wasn't sure about what their future would bring, but whatever it was, he was ready to face it. He just hoped that Hannibal wanted their future to be together.

If that wasn't so, then he would be disappointed, and he would be hurt. He couldn't deny that. He wanted his first lover to the be one he would spend his life with.

But if hat didn't happen, then he would survive. He would pick himself up, dust himself off, and put the pieces of what he knew would be a shattered heart back together again. He might never find another lover, but he would keep on living.

Will opened his mouth to speak just when Hannibal turned around, the skillet containing the eggs in his hand. "Good morning, Will," he said with a soft smile. "I thought I might have to come upstairs and wake you. Or bring you breakfast in bed."

"That would have been romantic," Will murmured with a tentative smile.

Hannibal put the skillet down, moving over to where Will stood. He slid his arms around the younger man's waist to pull him close, kissing him with an unexpected passion.

"I would like nothing better than to take you back to bed at this very moment," he whispered into Will's ear, the words sending a shiver down the young man's spine. "But first, we should eat -- and then we can think about making love again, hmmm?"

No, this didn't have to be love, Will told himself as he relaxed into Hannibal's embrace. But if this wasn't love, then it was something that came very, very close.


	8. Overwhelming Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal debates whether or not to spend the day in bed with Will.

Hannibal sat down across the table from Will, silently watching the young man. Was what he had said true? Did he intend on taking Will back upstairs after they'd had breakfast and making love to him again, keeping him there throughout the day.

He could do that, of course. It _was_ Saturday, and neither of them had any plans, as far as he knew. Will wasn't working, and he had no patients.

There was nothing to stop him from taking this beautiful boy back upstairs, locking the door to his bedroom, and making Will his for the rest of the day. The thought was alluring, tantalizing; he had no problem imagining what the two of them could do.

But he wasn't sure that it was a good idea to follow those inclinations.

He was all too aware that Will Graham was his weakness; spending hours in bed with him today could bring the two of them closer than he had ever intended for them be. He had put his plans for Will into motion, but he didn't want them to advance too quickly.

Will was his; he was already well aware of that fact. Body and soul, Will Graham belonged to him. He had no doubt of that. He _owned_ Will.

But it bothered him that Will seemed to have left a mark on him, as well.

Will Graham was his weakness. A disturbing one.

He didn't want anyone to be a weakness for him. It disturbed him that Will could reduce him to such a state of wanting. Such a state of _need_.

He should have more self-control than this. He should be able to look past the enticing thought of having Will in his arms, in his bed, naked and willing, open to anything that Hannibal wanted to do to him. He should be able to compartmentalize those feelings.

But instead, all he could feel was an overwhelming lust.

He wanted to finish eating as quickly as possible, turn any thoughts of being productive away, and carry Will upstairs to his bed. He wanted to spend the day instructing this beautiful young man in the art of love -- or rather, in the art of discovering his sexuality.

He had no doubt that he would do a masterful job of it. And he intended to enjoy every moment of showing Will Graham all of the gratification he could receive from his own body.

Will might be his weakness, but for once, he was going to give in to that weakness -- and have a delightful time doing so. He might regret it later, but for this weekend, he would allow himself to indulge,and he didn't think that he would regret one moment of that decision.


	9. Giving His Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is sure that when Hannibal gives his heart, it will be forever.

He'd given his heart to Hannibal. Freely and willingly.

That heart was his to give, and now that he had, he didn't want it back. Ever.

He _wanted_ Hannibal to own him, to claim his body and soul -- and his heart. Then why did he have a little voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to be careful, that he should take heed of what he was doing and not give his heart so easily?

Will wanted to ignore that voice. He wanted to sweep it away, to pretend that he didn't hear it. But that wasn't so easy to do.

It was as though a little demon rode on his shoulder, whispering into his ear that giving himself to Hannibal wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done. He was being cautioned to hold back, to keep his heart to himself, not to let Hannibal have all of him.

Wasn't it enough that Hannibal already had his body? Wasn't that all the other man expected from him? After all, Hannibal had said nothing about love. Will didn't know how Hannibal felt about him one way or the other. He might just feel nothing but desire.

This might be love at all, not for Hannibal. He might only want Will's body, and anything else that Will gave him would go unnoticed.

But Will found it hard to believe that.

Hannibal wouldn't have taken hm so gently, or made sure that his first time was so exquisitely pleasurable, if he didn't care for him in some way.

So maybe it wasn't love. As he'd already told himself, it didn't have to be. But it was more than just lust, more than a passing fancy. He knew that Hannibal's desire for him burned as deeply and strongly as his own for Hannibal.

There was no doubt in his mind that Hannibal wanted him -- but he could sense something else, something deeper, behind the desire, though he didn't have a name for it.

Just a few moments ago, when they were both sitting at the breakfast table, Hannibal had looked at him with a tenderness in those dark eyes that took Will's breath away. Yes, that was more than mere desire. It might not be love, but it was .... something.

Did it matter that he didn't have a name for it? No, not to him. As long as he could see that look in his lover's eyes, then that was enough for him.

He'd call it whatever Hannibal wanted him to.

Still, he couldn't help wondering if giving his heart so quickly had been the smart thing to do. Had Hannibal given his heart, as well? Will didn't think so.

He wasn't going to ask; it wasn't the kind of subject that he could just bring up casually. "Do you love me?" wasn't a question that could be asked lightly, especially when he wasn't at all sure if his lover _did_ love him, at least in the same way that he loved Hannibal.

Asking someone about the state of their heart was a terribly personal question, even for lovers. And Will was afraid that Hannibal might find it unforgivably rude.

His heart was in no uncertainty; it belonged to Hannibal, and only to him. No one else had ever owned his heart, and no one ever would.

No one else would ever have his body, either, Will told himself. He hadn't exactly saved himself just for Hannibal; he had simply never met anyone he'd ever wanted to give himself to until Hannibal had burst into his life like a supernova across the sky.

Giving Hannibal his virginity had been surprisingly easy. So had giving his heart. He would never regret giving either; he didn't want them back.

He was content to let Hannibal have every part of him.

He hadn't thought that he would ever give his heart to anyone, Will mused as he climbed the stairs to the bedroom. But he had, and it felt _right_.

No one had encouraged him to give his heart -- or his body -- to Hannibal. It had simply happened, as the natural progression of their relationship. Though if he was honest, his heart had belonged to Hannibal from the first time his lover had looked into his eyes.

He had fallen in that moment, fallen hard and fast. Looking back, he could pinpoint the exact moment that he had given himself over to Hannibal.

Will had no regrets about that, and never would. He might not feel that his heart was entirely safe, of that Hannibal loved him as fiercely as he loved. But it was enough to know that Hannibal cared for him in some way, to know that there was the _possibility_ of love.

That hope would take him a long way. He would hold on to it, cling to it, and let himself believe that at some point in their future, Hannibal would feel the same way about him.

One day, Hannibal _would_ give his heart.

When he did, that day would be a glorious one for Will. He knew that hsi heart would sing to hear Hannibal say that he loved him; those were the words he wanted to hear more than anything else. But he knew that he might have to wait quite a while to hear them.

Well, that was no matter, Will told himself firmly. He could wait. He didn't have to get a declaration of love from Hannibal; it was enough that they were together.

Hannibal _did_ care about him. He knew that from the gentle way that Hannibal kissed him and touched him, the look in Hannibal's eyes at times when their gazes met. He could tell from the way that Hannibal smiled at him.

That smile held love. It might be as yet unspoken, but it was there. Will was sure of it. He didn't have to hear the words to know that he was loved.

It was worth waiting for Hannibal to say that he'd given his heart, because when he did, the words would be doubly precious for having been kept back for so long. When Hannibal said those words, Will would hold them to his own heart, and never let them go.

Will smiled at the thought, closing his eyes and letting the idea wrap around his own heart.

When Hannibal said those words, he would mean them.


	10. Dance Around the Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal knows that he can't give Will reassurances about the true state of his feelings.

Sooner or later, he would have to give Will an answer.

Hannibal sat at his desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, deep in thought. He hadn't been able to take his mind off Will today; long after the young man had left his house to drive to Quantico, thoughts of Will had lingered in his mind.

No one else had ever captured his imagination the way that Will had. But then, no one else had ever captured him in other ways, either.

He wasn't sure that he was in love with Will; certainly he cared for the boy, but what he felt couldn't be put into one single four-letter word. Their relationship was far too complicated for that; love was something that might come later, when things were .... simpler.

But somehow, he doubted that they would ever be simple.

His relationship with Will was always going to be complicated, which was why it was nearly impossible to give his young lover the straightforward answers he wanted.

It bothered Hannibal a bit that Will was so insistent on knowing just what his feelings were; he didn't like to dance around the subject, but it was the only thing he could do, at least for now. He wasn't prepared to give Will an answer. Not yet.

Maybe he never would be. Maybe his feelings would never be clear-cut, and he would never be able to say those three little words that he knew Will wanted so much to hear. It was a pity that things might come to that, but he couldn't deny the possibility.

He would have to continue to dance around the subject whenever Will asked hm how he felt, simply telling the young man that he cared.

He could do no more than that. Not at this point in their relationship.

As much as he wanted to give Will the reassurance he needed, Hannibal simply couldn't do that. For one thing, he wasn't sure of his own feelings. For another .... this was a good way to keep Will off balance, to keep him guessing, to keep him close.

He couldn't allow Will to become too comfortable with their relationship. And he certainly couldn't allow Will to know just how important he was in Hannibal's life.

If Will knew that, the balance of power in their relationship would be skewed, and Hannibal couldn't let that happen. He couldn't lose his power over Will, couldn't lose the control that he had over the younger man. It would be disastrous.

So he would simply dance around the subject, for as long as he had to. There was no other choice.


	11. Some Kind of Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The physical bliss he shares with Hannibal is all that Will has ever wanted or needed.

This was all that he had ever wanted.

All that he'd ever needed, all that he'd ever dreamed of. Being here in Hannibal's bed, in Hannibal's arms, with his lover thrusting deep inside him, his legs wrapped around Hannibal's waist, their bodies joined in the most primal of ways.

This was all he wanted, all he needed, all that it took to make him happy and fulfilled. Will wanted this to last for the rest of his life, to hold this moment in his hands forever.

But that couldn't happen, and he knew it. The bliss that he felt now would fade; he would have to come back down to earth, go back to the life he lived on a daily basis and keep these moments in his memory, to hope that they would be repeated over again.

He would hold on to this for as long as he could, let the feelings seep into him and permeate his soul, and then he would carry them with him until the next time.

Will moaned Hannibal's name as another thrust lifted him higher, closer to the stars. He would never have believed that making love could feel like this until he'd actually experienced it. It didn't seem possible that anything could be so perfect.

The bliss he found in Hannibal's arms was unlike anything he'd ever known.

Could he have felt this way with anyone else? Will didn't think so. It was only Hannibal who could take him to these heights, only Hannibal who knew him so well.

No one else could make him feel like this. No one else could set his body and soul free. He wouldn't trust another person to touch him so intimately; he would never have let anyone get close enough to even think of this, much less actually do it.

The kind of trust he gave Hannibal was something that he could never extend to anyone else. Holding out his heart wasn't something he could do for just anyone.

Yet he'd done it for Hannibal, and there were those who would say that he knew Hannibal far less than he did some of the other people in his life. Yet there was a bond between them that Will couldn't deny, a bond that he had never found with another person.

Was it lust, or love? Will didn't know, and he didn't care to know. At the moment, the only thing mattered was the utter bliss that he felt.

Maybe it was a combination of both.

That was fine with him. This didn't have to be a declaration of love; it was enough that Hannibal wanted to be with him, enough that the man he loved was making love to him.

It didn't have to be some kind of true love that would last for eternity. That would be nice, but he didn't need such a declaration. All he needed was to have Hannibal here with him, on top of him, inside him, to know that for the moment, they were together.

Maybe it would only be for the moment. Maybe they wouldn't last. But he wasn't going to think that now. Not now, not when they were locked in passion.

All he wanted to concentrate on now was how Hannibal made him feel; the movement of those hands over his nude body, the feeling of Hannibal deep inside him, filling him, taking him.

Had anything ever felt so good, so ultimately _right_? Will didn't think so. This was the kind of bliss he'd never thought that he would experience, a bliss that he had always felt was reserved for other people, one that he would never know.

At least, he'd thought that before he had met Hannibal. When the two of them had connected, his world had become very, very different.

Hannibal had exploded into his life with the force of a cannonball.

The bliss that Hannibal made him feel was completely unexpected; it still amazed him that Hannibal could want him as much as he obviously did.

Every time they made love was better than the last. True, it hadn't happened all that often yet, but Will was convinced that each time would only keep getting better. Though it seemed impossible that anything could ever be better than what he was feeling now.

His slim thighs squeezed Hannibal's sides, his nails scratching down the other man's back. He moaned his lover's name again, his head falling back against the pillows.

This was as it should be; the kind of bliss he was feeling could only be generated by the two of them. Will knew that he was right where he belonged, in the arms of the one person he would ever love, the one person who could take him to the heavens with just one touch.

This was all he'd ever wanted, all that he lived for. These moments with Hannibal when he could feel this bliss and lose himself within it.

Nothing else mattered; only the two of them existed.

As long as he had this in his life, he needed nothing else. He didn't have to think about his job, being in the minds of killers, or pleasing his boss. All he had to concentrate on was how he felt, on the sensations that Hannibal sent coursing through his body.

This kind of bliss was something he hadn't reached for, hadn't dared to think could be his. But now that it was, he never intended to let it go.

It wouldn't last forever, at least not what he was experiencing now. But this bliss would come again, the next time he and Hannibal made love, and Will was sure that it would keep getting better as the two of them grew to know each other's bodies more intimately.

They were only at the beginning, and nothing was going to stop them from moving forward. They would both discover new needs and desires, and fulfill them within each other.

He didn't doubt that for a moment. The two of them would always be together, and this bliss would come to them again and again. He would never have to fear losing it; there would always be more around the next corner, more to look forward to.

The thought brought a moan to his lips and a sent another rush of desire through his body.

Oh, yes, this was some kind of bliss. One that he hadn't thought he would find, one that he hadn't asked for, but one that he would always treasure. A bliss that had been completely unexpected and unbidden, but one that he would never turn away from.

As Hannibal pushed into him again, the bliss rose even higher, sweeping him away.


	12. Watching Him Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal contemplates his feelings for Will as he watches his young lover sleep.

He loved watching Will sleep.

Hannibal looked down at his young lover, a soft smile on his lips. Will was exhausted from their lovemaking; he'd fallen asleep quickly after their bodies had been sated. Odd, when he did all the work, that Will could be so worn out after each coupling.

But of course, his lover didn't go out of his way to keep himself in shape, other than the hiking through the woods around his house, and lifting a few weights.

Perhaps he would have to change that, Hannibal mused as he pulled the covers carefully over Will's sleeping form. Will was in fairly good shape, but the thought of his slim body honed to perfection, those muscles even more pronounced, was very arousing.

Though to him, Will was already perfect was he was.

He really didn't want to change a thing about the young man he'd fallen so desperately in love with. Will might not be perfect, but neither did he need to be changed.

He himself had changed a great deal since the first time he had met Will; though he wouldn't admit it, most of all to Will, he had softened, become less cynical. Will had changed so much about him, and he couldn't help but feel that it was all for the better.

He hadn't intended to fall in love with Will. He had known that could be dangerous, for both himself and his lover. He had intended to keep this light, pleasant, a casual encounter. 

But that had been impossible to do. His feelings for Will had continued to grow; he hadn't been able to hold them back, though he _had_ tried. It had been impossible not to fall in love with this beauty; he would never have been able to hold these feelings back.

He had tried. Oh, he had tried. But it hadn't worked. His feelings had been too strong for him, and they had defeated him in the end.

Now, he simply accepted the fact that he loved.

What else could he do? He really had no choice. It was either accept his feelings -- or get rid of Will, banish the young man from his life for his own good.

He would never have been able to do that. Will had already meant far too much to him, even after only a few meetings. And no matter how he had tried to keep their relationship on a professional level, he had always known that it would come to this.

He could no more banish Will from his life than he could stop breathing. Will was the breath of life to him; Will had become the axis that his world spun around.

No, that probably wasn't a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.

He'd let Will become this important in his life, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want things to change. He didn't want to go back to being that lonely man he had been when he had first met Will, lonely and reaching out for friendship.

He had found so much more than a friend when he'd found Will. He hadn't dared to hope for this, but now that he had it, he wasn't letting go.

There was no need to let go, not as long as he was careful not to let Will discover all of his secrets. He could make this work, with a little care and preparation.

Hannibal looked down at the sleeping young man in his bed again, smiling as he reached out to stroke the dark hair back from Will's forehead. He always marveled at the softness of those curls; Will's hair was like the finest silk, his skin like the softest velvet, his lips like the headiest wine.

Yes, he could make this work out. He simply had to be cautious.

There was no reason not to believe that he and Will could have a happy life together, and that he could still keep his secrets safe -- and continue with that secret life.

If Will ever found out, he knew that they would lose each other. And he couldn't permit that to happen. Will was _his_ \-- this beautiful young man belonged to him, and now that he had decided to keep Will, he wasn't going to let his lover go easily.

Will would never stay with him if he knew the truth, so that truth had to be kept from him. It might not be easy, but he would find a way.

Losing Will was not an option. Not now, and not ever.

Will belonged to him. He had as much as said it himself. And what belonged to Hannibal, he didn't let go. Not until he was ready to give up that particular possession.

He would never give Will up. He didn't know if the young man realized just what he had gotten himself into when they'd become involved, but it was far too late for Will to back out of this relationship now. He was trapped, spun into the sticky threads of Hannibal's web.

Will was _his_. Anyone who tried to take him from Hannibal would soon regret it; he would dispatch them speedily, and make good use of them.

Will, of course, would never know that; he would never know just what went on behind the closed and locked doors of Hannibal's home, or know what his lover did on the nights that he wasn't here. Will would never have access to all of his secrets.

It was a pity that he couldn't let his young lover into his life completely, but that would be too risky -- both for himself _and_ for Will.

But they could enjoy each other, and they could be together.

He would probably never tell Will just how much he was loved; that would tip the balance of the scales in a direction that wouldn't leave Hannibal enough control. No, he would have to keep Will on his toes, keep him guessing, never quite let him know where he stood.

He could do that, he thought, gazing down at the sleeping man in his bed. He didn't have to let Will know exactly how he felt. 

Or was it? he asked himself with a frown. How long would Will be satisfied with not knowing, with always having to wonder what his lover's feelings were? That thought opened an entirely new set of problems, but they were ones that he didn't want to deal with right now.

Right now, he simply wanted to relax and watch his lover sleep.


	13. Kept To HImself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is starting to feel that Hannibal is becoming far too much of a weakness for him.

Was it weak of him to give himself to Hannibal in the way he did?

Will frowned, propping his chin on his hand and staring off into space. His classes were done for the day, and he really didn't have any reason to still be here, but he had some thinking to do, and he didn't want to be preoccupied on the drive to Hannibal's house.

He had a lot to think about. Their relationship was getting more serious, more complicated, more involved. This was what he'd wanted all along.

But with that involvement came some serious thinking. There were great things about them being together, and there were some drawbacks, too. he could already feel them, and he couldn't wondering if Hannibal was the same, if he was having doubts.

No, Will told himself firmly. They weren't doubts, exactly.

He simply felt that things were getting complicated, and that they had to have a talk about where they stood, and where they both wanted their relationship to go. He was starting to feel as though he was weak, helpless, a puppet when it came to his feelings for Hannibal.

He didn't like that feeling. He wanted it to go away, but instead of dissipating the longer they were together, it only seemed to grow.

Hannibal was his weakness. He had already acknowledged that to himself. But was that weakness a danger to him and his own well-being?

The longer that he was involved with Hannibal, the more he felt himself submitting to his lover's desires. There were times when he felt as though he was being submerged, losing something of himself and his own free will by letting Hannibal take him over.

Was that a good thing? Or was he becoming far too submissive?

Will sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He was tired; it had been a long day, and this wasn't the best thing to think about these things. He didn't feel that he could talk about them with Hannibal, though. They had to be kept to himself, at least for a while.

Maybe he would be able to iron them out one day to his satisfaction. He had to, really. If he didn't, then their relationship was going to be strained.

He'd have to talk about this with Hannibal sooner or later, but not before he thought it through himself, and came to his own conclusions. Then, and only then, would he talk to his lover about what he was starting to feel could become a dangerous weakness for him.

Would Hannibal agree with him? That remained to be seen.


	14. Caught in A Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will feels like the fly caught in a spider's web -- but he's exactly where he wants to be.

Will sighed softly, gazing out of the window of the coffee shop. He was on a break from classes, though he had to be back in front of a room full of students in less than two hours.

What he really wanted to do was to go to Baltimore and see Hannibal, but he knew that wasn't possible. By the time he got there, he might have an hour at best before he had to turn around drive back. And he wouldn't want to leave once he was there.

Hannibal was becoming an addiction for him, an addiction that he craved more and more with each passing day. It was starting to worry him.

Was he in love? And how could he tell if he was?

He sighed again, resting his head against the frosted glass of the window for just a moment and closing his eyes. What did he know about love?

When he straightened up again, he turned resolutely away from the window. There was a couple outside on the street, two men who were walking along hand in hand, both of them smiling happily. He wanted that couple of be him and Hannibal.

The two of them were happy in their relationship, weren't they? Will wanted to believe that. He wanted to know that they were _both_ satisfied with what they had.

But even as that thought formed in his mind, he knew that it wasn't true. He might be satisfied with where their relationship stood at the moment, but he wasn't truly _happy_. There was still too much that he wanted, too much that he wasn't sure he would ever have.

He wanted their relationship to be closer in the emotional sense. He wanted to be not only Hannibal's lover, but the man he loved.

He wanted Hannibal to be in love with him, just as he was with Hannibal.

He was caught up in Hannibal's web, a web that the other man had spun around when he apparently hadn't been looking. He was rolled up into those sticky threads just like a fly was rolled into a spider's web, becoming a meal for the hungry predator.

But Hannibal wasn't a predator, was he? No, Hannibal was his lover. Maybe he could even call Hannibal his boyfriend, at this point.

That was something they'd have to talk about -- how their viewed each other within the context of their new relationship. Will had to smile reluctantly at that thought. He doubted that Hannibal would use such a word as "boyfriend" to describe him.

No, he would probably use the word "lover."

Not tht he minded such a word, Will told himself hastily. He _was_ Hannibal's lover, and being referred to by that word didn't bother him at all.

It felt strange to think of himself as being _anyone's_ lover. After spending pretty much his entire life being convinced that he would never love anyone, or find anyone to love him, suddenly having a lover was hard to get used to.

And it was even more strange to think of himself as being caught up, swept away, helpless to stop whatever might happen between the two of them.

But did he really _want_ to stop it? He didn't think so. He wanted this to go on and on, to bring him to the edge again and again, to see where ti would take him.

Yes, he was caught in a web -- but Will was sure that this was where he wanted to be. He'd been the one to take those steps forward; he'd had his eyes wide open, knowing what he was getting into. He hadn't thought that Hannibal would be an easy lover.

He'd wanted Hannibal from the first time they'd met. And now that his dreams were coming true, he wasn't going to back away from having them fulfilled.

Even if he might be a little scared of those dreams now.

It was impossible not to be a little scared of Hannibal sometimes, he told himself. The man was intense; there was a purpose to everything he did, and he was the kind of person who didn't stop until he achieved his goals, until he got what he wanted.

That was one of the reasons why he was so drawn to Hannibal, so caught up in his web of attraction. If he'd been less intense, he would be less interesting.

And less desirable, Will admitted with a soft sigh. Maybe he was drawn to Hannibal because his lover had always seemed like a slightly dangerous man. Maybe he wanted a bit of that danger in his life. Maybe he had always wanted to dance along the edge.

Well, we was definitely doing that now.

Just being with Hannibal was taking a walk on the wide side, wasn't it? He was unpredictable. There was no way of knowing what would happen next.

A part of him liked that, Will thought to himself. A part of him liked feeling wild and abandoned, not knowing exactly where this relationship was going to lead him, what barriers it would break down. Being with Hannibal was exciting, an adventure.

But part of him wanted more security than he would ever have in this relationship. Part of him wanted things to be more gentle, more steady.

That thought almost made him laugh aloud. Steadiness, with Hannibal? Security? That wasn't something he'd ever know if he kept this relationship going. But he didn't really have a choice in that matter. His emotions had already made that decision for him.

Of course he would keep this relationship going. Because, in the end, he belonged in this spider's web. He belonged to Hannibal, and no one else.

And really, if he was honest, there was nowhere else he would rather be.

Will looked at his watch, sighing. He'd sat here and thought for nearly half an hour without even ordering lunch. He had to eat quickly before he went back to work.

That was one of the effects Hannibal had on him, he told himself as he signaled a waiter to come over and take his order. He had the power of distraction; once he took over Will's thoughts, he wasn't easily dismissed from them. He really _was_ caught in a web.

But then, he told himself, he was exactly where he belonged. And he really didn't want to be anywhere else -- even if staying here might be more dangerous than he thought.


	15. Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will can't help wondering just why he and Hannibal seem so inextricably linked with each other.

He was going to see Hannibal tonight.

Will looked at the clock on his office wall again, sighing in frustration. No matter how many times he looked up, it never seemed to move fast enough.

He was supposed to be grading papers, but he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. Each time he bent his head over the students' work, all he could see was Hannibal; all he could think of was his boyfriend, and the knowledge that they'd be together tonight.

Finally, Will pushed the papers aside, giving up on the work he was doing. He wasn't giving them his complete concentration, and that wasn't fair to his students.

But he couldn't keep his mind off Hannibal, and what they would probably be doing after dinner tonight. He had no doubt that Hannibal would take him to his bed; it had been over a week since they had last made love, and he knew that Hannibal would want him.

And he'd want Hannibal just as much, Will told himself. In fact, he already did. His body was burning, aching, longing for Hannibal's touch.

He and Hannibal were inextricably linked.

He wouldn't long for his lover's touch in the way that he did if they weren't, Will thought with a sigh. And he wouldn't love Hannibal as much as he did, either.

The question was, did Hannibal feel the same way about him? Did he feel a link between them, one that pulled them inexorably towards each other? Or was Will simply a pastime for him, one that he would tire of eventually and walk away from?

Will didn't want to think like that. He wanted to believe that he and Hannibal would grow closer, and that they would spend their lives together.

But Hannibal was so inscrutable; he wore his emotions so well, not letting them show in his face or in his voice. Will could never tell just how he felt; he played everything to close to the vest that it was impossible to know just what he was thinking or feeling at any given time.

It was frustrating beyond belief, Will thought to himself. And it wasn't as though he could simply come out and _ask_ Hannibal what he was feeling.

Well, he _could_ , but something always held him back.

For some reason, he didn't feel comfortable talking to Hannibal about his emotions. He didn't know why; he simply always felt that it was a closed door.

Hannibal had never said that he loved Will, not even when they were making love. If he _had_ said those three little words that Will wanted so much to hear, then Will couldn't remember them. He had been too wrapped up in the throes of passion at the time.

He searched his memory, looking for a time when Hannibal had said those words. He couldn't remember one. Not one single utterance.

But even though he'd never heard those words -- and wondered if he ever would -- from Hannibal, Will still felt that they were linked, bonded to each other.

He didn't know just _why_ he felt that way, but he couldn't deny that he did. He felt a closeness to Hannibal that he'd never felt for anyone else; he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but he knew that the bond was there, an unbreakable bond.

It wasn't simply because he and Hannibal were lovers in the physical sense; it actually had more to do with his emotions than with his body.

Will wished he knew why that bond existed, and how it had come to be.

Why were he and Hannibal so linked to each other? What was it about the other man that he found utterly irresistible, and why?

It wasn't his looks, that was for sure. Hannibal had squinty eyes and thin, almost nonexistent lips. His looks were nothing special; in fact, he wasn't a physically attractive man at all. But his mind .... ah, that was a different story. His mind was _fascinating_.

That was the attraction, and had been from the first. Hannibal's mind drew him inexorably closer, like the proverbial moth to a flame. He couldn't resist that brilliant mind.

Hannibal was a worthy match for him in the mental arena, and he'd never met anyone else who was. This man would be a worthy opponent if they ever went up against each other in any way; Will already knew that from playing chess with his lover.

The two of them were evenly matched mentally. Will just couldn't help wondering if there would ever come a day when one of them would get the better of the other.

He hoped not; he didn't want to be on the losing end.

But that link, whatever it was and whyever it existed between them, would keep them together. The two of them would always be bound by that strange attraction.

Will couldn't keep from wondering just _why_ that link had formed when it had -- and why it had led to them becoming physical lovers. He'd never have expected that to happen, but somehow, it had. And he wasn't the least bit ashamed of that fact.

If only he knew just how Hannibal felt about him! Will sighed, looking at the clock again. Somehow, it had miraculously managed to move forward.

He sighed with relief, standing up and shuffling the papers together before putting them away neatly in his briefcase. He would return to his work tomorrow; the papers didn't need to be graded before Monday, and he could get them done over the weekend.

But for now, it was Friday night, and he was going to spend the evening with his boyfriend, and explore the link between them in both the mental and physical sense.

He was looking forward to every second of this weekend.


	16. This Wheel's on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't take much for Hannibal to reduce Will to a burning, begging mass of desire.

Will whimpered as Hannibal's hands and lips moved down his body; he couldn't move, could barely breathe. All he could do was _feel_.

This was what he wanted, what he'd been aching for all day long.

He felt as though he was a wheel, turning around around all day, and now that he was finally with Hannibal, he was spinning uncontrollably.

This wheel was on fire, and he didn't know how to put the flames out. Rather, he didn't _want_ to put them out; he wanted them to flare higher and higher, out of control, until they consumed him completely and left no more than a pile of blackened ash behind.

He was burning from the inside out, the fire within him threatening to consume him from head to toe. All he wanted was for Hannibal to take him, to join their bodies.

But he wasn't going to beg for it.

He might be on fire, but he wouldn't plead. He'd discovered long since that pleading would only make his lover take his time, as though to draw out his neediness until he was sure that he couldn't take it any more, that he would explode from the buildup of desire.

Will arched his back, raising his hips off the bed. And in the next moment, found himself flipped over onto his stomach, pressed down against the pillows.

He hadn't expected _that_. He barely had time to draw breath before Hannibal's hands were moving down his back, stroking his skin lightly.

Will drew in one deep breath, then another. Those fingertips were trailing flames down his back; he was positive that he could feel his flesh burning with desire everywhere those hands touched, those hands that brought him such pleasure ....

Those hand that could work magic on his body.

The wheel was turning, around and around, starting to spin wildly out of control. In another few moments, he would be writhing, groaning, and begging.

Yes, _begging_. He didn't care if that touch reduced him to begging; if that was the only way he could have Hannibal, then he would gladly lower himself to beg and grovel for what he needed. He couldn't keep going like this, knowing what he he needed and being denied.

This wheel was on fire, and he would do whatever he had to do for his desire to be assuaged, even if that meant turning himself into a whining, desperate mass of _need_.

It would be worth the begging to get what he wanted so badly.

The fire rose in him as Hannibal's hands continued to move on his burning flesh; within just a few seconds, Will knew that the wheel would be burning even more fiercely, spinning entirely out of control.


	17. Not Only Skin Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal contemplates Will's beauty while the two of them are in bed together.

His Will was so utterly beautiful.

How could he think otherwise? Hannibal asked himself as he smoothed a gentle hand down Will's bare back. He could never tire of feasting his eyes on such beauty.

Will's beauty was not only skin deep. It went much further than that.

He was the most perfect creature that Hannibal had ever seen. The creamy porcelain skin, the perfectly shaped lips, the graceful limbs -- all combined to create a breathtaking beauty.

Will was like a statue, perfectly proportioned. There was nothing about his body that Hannibal didn't love; he was entranced by every inch of this beautiful young man. And not only his body, but the indomitable spirit that dwelt within the beauty of his flesh.

Will possessed that indefinable kalon -- a beauty that was far more than skin deep, Hannibal mused as he moved one fingertip down Will's spine.

Yes, his body was truly magnificent -- but there was so much more to Will Graham than merely a physical beauty. There was something within him that shone out, something that lit his eyes, that formed an almost palpable aura around him.

Will was precious and rare, a beautiful creation that Hannibal wanted to keep to himself. He didn't like the fact that anyone else might discover that same kalon within Will.

No. Will was _his_ , his to take pleasure in, his to .... love.

That word startled him, brought him up short. Did he love Will? Could he call what he felt by that four-letter word, a word that he had never used for anyone who he'd taken to his bed in the past? Was that why Will was so so special to him?

He wasn't sure that he had the answer to those questions. Love had always been a closed door to him; he had always been sure that he could never feel it.

But it indeed seemed that he might be in danger of falling deeply in love with Will Graham, of losing what was left of his heart after the trials of his past to this young man. He might very well be committing himself to Will for all of their lives, to a relationship that would last.

In the past, that might have made him feel uneasy, or even frightened him a bit.

Now, it only intrigued him. The idea of falling in love, of having a relationship that didn't ultimately end with the death of his partner, or a breakup, was interesting.

No, not just _interesting_ , Hannibal told himself, his hand moving back up Will's body to tangle in those thick, dark locks and pull his head back slightly. It was something that he wanted to explore, to see just how far he could take their relationship.

If it didn't last, then he hoped that he wouldn't have to kill Will. That was the last thing he wanted to do, even if their physical mating came to an end.

Without Will in his life, he would be a lonely man indeed. He had only discovered that he _was_ lonely once Will had taken up residence in his life -- and in his heart as well.

That was another surprise, to realize just how strong his feelings for Will were. He hadn't expected that to happen when their relationship had first started; he had thought that Will would be a pleasant diversion, a distraction, and nothing more.

He'd been fully convinced that their relationship would last for a while, perhaps even a long time, before they would both decide to amicably end their physical passion.

But it looked as though that wasn't going to happen.

At least, it wouldn't happen from his side of things. His physical desire for Will was far too strong for him to end it; instead of that passion waning as they had become more closely involved, as Will had learned to discover and enjoy his sexuality, it had only grown stronger.

Each time they mated, Hannibal was sure that his passion for Will flamed ever higher, that he wanted the young man more with each passing day.

No, he could never deny himself -- or Will -- these feelings. If one of them chose to end their relationship, it would have to be Will; Hannibal didn't think that he could bring himself to do so. He would have to let Will decided where this was going -- and if it would end.

And he would have to learn to respect that decision, and settle for merely being friends.

That would indeed be the hardest thing he had ever tried to do; to let this kind of beauty slip from his life, even if they remained friends, would be wrenching for him.

But if it was what Will wanted, if merely being friends would keep this young man in his life, even if not as a lover as he was now, then he would learn to live with that. After all, having this kind of beauty to feast his eyes and his mind on every day was better than not having it at all.

Without this beauty in his life, he would be but a husk of who he was now. All of the emotions that Will had managed to bring to the forefront would fade and die away.

He didn't want that. He didn't want to lose Will -- either as a friend, or as a lover. There were secrets that he had to keep, things that he knew he could never tell this young man, but still, he felt that their relationship could safely continue for a very long time to come.

Possibly for the rest of their lives. His heart quickened at the thought; to have Will beside him, in his bed and in his arms, for a lifetime .... that would be a dream come true.

A dream that probably would never be made reality.

But this wasn't the time to think of what could not be, Hannibal told himself firmly. This was the time to be with Will, to make sure that both of them fully enjoyed themselves.

This was the time to take Will, to make this young man his in the physical sense, to satiate himself with the beauty of Will's body. Later, he would bask in the pleasures of that beautiful mind as well -- but at the moment, the physical was all that mattered.

That thought made the passion that he'd kept banked within himself flame higher; it was time for their bodies to join, for them to experience the ultimate pleasure.

Not only a physical joining, but a joining of their spirits and emotions, as well.

This was where he wanted to be -- where he _needed_ to be. Here with Will, holding him, caressing him -- taking him. Being inside him, becoming a _part_ of him.

Hannibal closed his eyes and thrust his hips forward.


	18. Always Be Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making love with Hannibal is the most potent pleasure that Will has ever felt.

Will's hips rose to meet Hannibal's thrust, a moan breaking from his lips as his arms tightened around his lover's neck to pull him down for a kiss.

Nothing felt as good as Hannibal making love to him. Nothing.

Maybe this wasn't true love. Maybe they wouldn't stay together for a lifetime. But they had the here and now, and that was all that mattered at this moment.

For right now, he _was_ in love with this man -- in love with his body, in love with all of the sensations that Hannibal made him feel. No one else could do this; no one else could take him to the stars over and over again, and still leave him begging for more.

No one else was like Hannibal. And he was sure, in this moment, that he could never feel this way about anyone else, or let another person be this close to him.

Hannibal was the only one for him.

He'd never expected to give his body to anyone, but even less had he expected to give his heart. Yet that seemed to be exactly what he had done.

It surprised him to think that he could possibly be in love. Love had never seemed like something that would happen to him; Will had always thought that it was something for other people, something that he could see but never touch, never experience for himself.

He'd always felt that he'd forever be on the outside looking inside, never knowing the warmth and security of love, always wondering what it was like.

But now, he was slowly starting to believe that he'd found the kind of love that he had always craved. With each time that he and Hannibal were together physically, he opened his heart a little more, letting the other man into that sanctified chamber.

He was sure that he was falling in love. Especially in moments like these, when Hannibal made him feel so much, both physically and emotionally.

He wasn't holding back now. He was giving his all.

With each thrust into his body, Hannibal made Will more his, binding the young man to him in both body and soul. And Will willingly gave all that Hannibal asked for.

How could he not? This feeling was the most exquisite thing he had ever known; his body felt as though he was ricocheting like a ping-pong ball, shooting directly towards the stars and then plummeting back to the earth again, only to be lifted high once more.

It was intense, dizzying, exhilarating. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he never wanted it to end. He wanted this to go on forever and a day.

He wanted to be caught up in this maelstrom of sensation for the rest of his life.

His thighs tightened against Hannibal's sides as, with each thrust, he was lifted higher and higher, until he could swear that he was floating amongst the stars.

How was it possible for anything to feel like this? He had never known that lovemaking could be so intense; if he had, maybe he would have been more hungry for it, wanted to experience it much sooner than he had, instead of waiting until Hannibal had come into his life.

No, that wasn't true. He would never have been able to give himself to another person. Hannibal was the only one who had been able to open that door.

He wanted them to always be like this, their bodies and hearts joined, united as one, always staying this close. He wanted them to grow even closer, to knit their lives together, to be a part of each other. This was what he'd been meant for, with this man and no one else.

Being with anyone else would have been impossible. He would never have trusted another person to be this close to him, to give him these sensations.

It had been hard enough to go to bed with Hannibal that first time, even though he had wanted to. Pushing aside those barriers that he'd built up hadn't been easy, but he had done it -- and he hadn't looked back, or had any regrets about giving himself to this man.

He hadn't been coerced, or forced. He had done exactly what he wanted, and been glad to finally leap that abyss that had always frightened him before.

Hannibal had taken that fear away, replacing it with pleasure.

Could anyone else have done that for him? Will didn't think so. Only Hannibal was capable ot turning that fear into desire, transforming it from negative to positive.

As Hannibal thrust into him again, Will couldn't hold back a cry; it took him a moment to realize that the word he had uttered was his lover's name, the sound exploding from his lips as a half-moan. His body was starting to spiral upwards, his orgasm coming to the surface.

Desperately, he tried to hold it back; he wanted this to last longer, to never have to come back down from the clouds he was now inhabiting.

But nothing could last forever, as Will was all too well aware.

He felt his climax slowly start to uncoil within him; within seconds, it was rising quickly, threatening to take him over, drowning him in pure sensation.

Will tried to hold it back, even as Hannibal thrust into him and he could hear the other man's soft murmurs coaxing him to come, to free himself, to let himself go. He didn't want to do that; he wanted to make this last for as long as it possibly could, to prolong the pleasure.

He held on to that hope for as long as he could; then, with a suddenness that was almost shocking, his orgasm burst through, making him gasp and then cry out.

Pleasure such as he had never known washed over him in a tidal wave that threatened to engulf him; Will saw stars dancing in front of his eyes, heard a roaring in his ears that he dimly realized was composed of his own pleasured cried and Hannibal's heavy breathing.

He could feel Hannibal pounding into him, then feel his lover's release into his body. They had both reached the peak of pleasure; it was over but for the afterglow.

He intended to savor that afterglow for quite some time.

Hannibal rolled off of him, leaving Will lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling with wide blue eyes, his breath rasping in his chest.

Will laid one hand over his heart, feeling as though it was beating in double, no, _triple_ time. He had never felt that kind of pleasure before any time he'd been with Hannibal; it was as though he'd been caught up in a tornado, just like Dorothy being blown away to Oz.

He had been unable to do anything other than go along for the ride -- and what a ride it had been. Nothing had _ever_ felt that intense.

He understood now why the French called an orgasm a "little death."

Hannibal sat up, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. "I hope that was as marvelous for you as it was for me," he said softly, his voice warm and affectionate.

Will debated on what to say for a few moments; finally, he simply met Hannibal's gaze and nodded, his own voice very soft when he spoke. "Not just marvelous. It was the most incredible feeling I've ever had. I felt like I was touching the stars."

"Perhaps we were," Hannibal told him, reaching out to brush a lock of damp hair from Will's forehead. "I felt that way as well, Will. I never have before."

Those words made Will's feel as though his heart was swelling in his chest.

They would always be like this. Nothing would ever tear them apart; with each time they made love, they would become closer, and their relationship would grow stronger. What they shared at this moment was just the beginning of a long road that they would travel together.

It was a journey that he couldn't wait to start.


End file.
